Fact or Fiction? - 10

The story I shared yesterday Here was...

100% true.

We completed the purchase and moved in just 6 days before I was 21 years old.

To buy the house, I had to sell my horse. That was a massive sacrifice on my part because she was my first and only horse.

I had always wanted a pony, always loved watching horses wherever I could find them.

My favourite toy was a rocking horse my grandad bought for me. I called him ‘Dapple’ (the rocking horse, not my grandad).

From then, I was besotted with horses and ponies. I didn’t have to even ride them, just being near to them soothed my soul and in the depths of a bad mood, going to sit with horses and ponies calmed me.

Selling Goldie was a necessity so that Trev and I could move onto the next chapter of our lives together. Though I loathed having to sell her, I don’t regret it. She went to a great home and because she was exceptionally clever, she made the transition from Showjumper to Dressage. She went on to become a Grade A Dressage horse.

Now for the story... Truth or Fiction?

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We went to Vermont in America for a skiing holiday and in the middle of the skiing, I took Dani horse riding. We (the friends we were on holiday with) went to a farm that advertised horse riding. Because we made up a large group, the owner asked if any of us were experienced riders.

I said I was… kinda and she said in that case, she’d allow me to ride her personal horse. He’d not been ridden for a few months and was getting fat and lazy in the barn. The exercise would do him good. He wasn’t a nasty-tempered horse, but he was big and strong and he may not like the idea of leaving the nice warm barn and doing some work.

“I’ll be fine,” I said…

The kids were put on the most placid ponies and I had to be given a leg-up to get on this HUGE horse. He had to be at least 17HH (almost 1.75m) to the withers (highest point of the horse’s back). That means the horse’s head would be way taller than me. Perched on top of his back, I could see for miles…

Because my mount decided, we ended up last in the line.

“Keep him going forward, following us, because he’s really lazy and he’ll try to go back to the barn!” the owner shouted to me.

“OK!” I said, sounding way more confident than I felt that I had the ability to do as she told me.

The ponies followed a track off to the left, which then curved around to the right.

My horse decided he knew where they were going and he knew a short-cut. We set off across a pristine, un-walked-on field. The snow was almost up to the soles of my boots. The horse ploughed his way forward, heading straight for his owner.

I tried to get him back on-track but he was having none of it. I figured we were falling behind, so I’d allow him to catch up in his own way.

“Turn him away from there!” The owner shouted. It’s not a short-cut, that’s a cliff!”

As she said that, I looked to where the horse was heading and I could just see the rocks of the cliff. The snow was not deep enough to cover them, but as I’d already seen, the snow was pretty deep, the fall from that cliff would have been catastrophic!

‘I have a homicidal mount that’s trying to kill me, just so he can go back to bed!’ I thought to myself.

With panic-driven strength, I took him in-hand and turned him away. We had to go back to the beginning of the track to get around the fence. He thought he’d won and was going home until I swung him right to follow the others. He didn’t like that at all, but thankfully, he realised who was boss and did as I told him.

“You try to kill me and I’m going to make you wish you hadn’t,” I whispered to him. His ears flicked back… maybe he understood me… and then maybe he also believed me.

The trek through the maple forest was spectacular and well-worth the effort to get there.

Massive and majestic trees, a great guided tour and the possibly an opportunity to see moose!

The farm owned a syrup factory. That’s the reason for the maple forest. The sweet, sugary sap is harvested and produced on their own premises.

We spent a wonderful, magical time trekking through the forest, everything silent and somehow muted by the snow. The soft ‘crump’ sound of the horses’ hooves and creaking of leather the only sounds. The soft whinnies as the horses spotted another horse from a neighbouring farm.

That horse ride was one of the highlights of that trip – including the time Trev and I walked across a frozen lake! (Not as great as it sounds).

Various aspects from that trip to Vermont has made their way into a few of my stories, but the horse riding adventure has not, until now.

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